Things Best Left Forgotten
by skydala
Summary: She's always said victims hold something back. Whether from fear, shame, or a desire to pretend it never happened. She's made it this far w/o raising much suspicion from those in her life, but now she's once again in the presence of the only other living person who might know the truth. He'd not brought it up at trial, but maybe he liked the idea of it being secret as much as she.
1. Tease

_Thank you for taking the time to check out my very first fanfic. I hope you enjoy it (though enjoy may be entirely the wrong word for it, all things considered). A huge, HUGE shout-out of enormous thanks to svuxfanfic and Radioactive Whisper for their advice and encouragement. Please check out their stories when you're done here. You won't regret it. And without any further ado..._

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><p><strong>Thursday, April 3, 2014<strong>

"You know," he whispered, hands braced on the metal table on either side of her trembling body, his lips brushing feather-light against her ear, "This all feels really familiar..."

Olivia's eyes slid shut and a tear rolled down her face as she knew, in that instant, that despite his act in court, the Beast had not forgotten the one thing she'd desperately hoped she'd beaten out of his brain. The one memory that she liked to just pretend had never even happened. The one dark secret they both still shared:

_What happened in the bathroom._


	2. Hide and Seek

**Saturday, May 25, 2013**

The noise of the van door opening startled Olivia awake. They had arrived. For a moment, blinded by the sunlight streaming in, she forgot where she was and how, since the early hours of Wednesday morning, her life had been viciously and systematically ripped to shreds by William Lewis. The Beast. That moniker surely fit anyone savage, cruel, and callous enough to do all that they knew he had done (not to mention whatever else had been left out of his file), and yet still grin down at her as he was now, looking like nothing more than Lucifer himself. His edges were gilded, his hair seemingly transformed into a halo from the glow of the late afternoon sun, and she could see the gleam of his teeth as he watched her face transform with recognition. Clouds on the horizon promised rain later in the day, but for now, he stood above her as beautiful and terrible as a fallen angel and Olivia wondered – not for the first time – if the mixture of drugs and alcohol he was keeping her on hadn't permanently affected her brain.

The next of Olivia's senses to return to full use was that of smell. She had mostly gotten used to their bodies by this point, but every time she was jolted awake, the stench came rushing back in to fill her nostrils. Sweat and urine, death and fear, other unspeakable things. And always, always the overwhelming reek of alcohol. Vodka. Bourbon. 5 Krazys. She thought briefly that she might become a teetotaler when this was all over, before almost losing herself to hysteria. As if there was any chance she'd be leaving this 'someplace special' alive…

Lewis cocked his head and crouched down by the side of the van. "Hey, gorgeous, what's the matter? You gonna smile for me, sweetheart?" She swore the bastard could literally read her mind sometimes. What other explanation was there for him knowing how close she was to such inexplicable laughter?

Olivia tried to glare up at him, but her body was refusing to cooperate, so she simply let her eyes fall shut again. She was reminded of playing hide-and-seek as a child. Invariably, she would attempt to hide in a space much too small to truly disappear from sight, but she was convinced that if she closed her eyes, a cloaking device would be activated – "If I can't see you, you can't see me." How she desperately wished that were the case now. But just as it hadn't worked as a child, or in a prison basement five years prior, it didn't work now. Lewis chuckled under his breath, grasped her under her arms and hauled her off the floor of the car, dragging her body up the length of his own in the process till she was in a more or less standing position. Every square inch of her skin was tingling, whether from blood-flow being properly returned or his invasively close proximity, she wasn't entirely sure. Probably both. Lewis left her leaning against the side of the van as he reached in, grabbed his bag of "goodies" and slid the door shut. Clicking the lock button till the car beeped, he grasped her around the waist with his right arm as he hitched up the paper bag in his left.

Olivia's face burned with humiliation as she fell against him, lacking the control one typically needs to be able to stand and walk on her own. She was entirely reliant on Lewis's strength to get her into the house, a fact he was clearly loving as he whispered into her ear before dragging her half-stumbling body toward the front door of what would surely be her final hell. Her heart plummeted and the despair she would have gambled heavily upon being unable to get any worse grew exponentially as she heard his words repeat in her head, _"Don't be so anxious, baby. We're just getting started…" _

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The beach house seemed innocuous enough from the outside, all stone steps, wooden shingles, and white trim against the quiet backdrop of trees and water. What drew Olivia's eye, however, as she was pulled ever closer was the exposed red brick chimney. A shudder passed through her at the thought of fire and she found herself praying desperately to whichever deity or force might still be listening to her at this point that Lewis was through with the 'burning' portion of their time together. But then she recalled sitting in the backseat of a black SUV the previous evening _(or was it a lifetime ago?)_ and listening to talk of hardware stores and "surprises for later" and she was suddenly very sure that nothing was out of the question.

If she'd happened upon this beach house for any other reason, Olivia might have appreciated the serenity of the location. Everything was shades of blue and green, calm and still. Even behind her eyelids _(when had they closed again?)_ she could see the soft light and gentle tones that leant a deceptive air of peacefulness to the scuffled proceedings leading up to the glass-paned double doors. As Lewis grasped the handle and pushed the door open, he swung Olivia's body enough that she was forced to re-open her eyes in order to not completely lose her balance and fall to the floor despite his supporting arm. As her head lolled and her glassy look took in the interior of the house, she found herself wondering about the owners. There were maps and photos hanging on the walls, furniture covered with sheets and quilts, mostly empty shelves, and a hodge-podge of decorations gracing the flat surfaces and hearth. The colors were more vibrant in this room than they'd been outside. Deep green doors and accents; rich reds and yellows in the drapes and wood. Would the people who called this their home away from home ever want to return after what was to happen here? What precious family mementos might Lewis destroy if the desire to pull his usual 'Hurricane Billy' antics struck him? Would her blood add to the variation in the colors of the grain of the wood?

Lewis continued his path through the room and Olivia could feel herself beginning to slip out of his grasp. If he didn't readjust his grip soon, she was going to fall flat on her face on the hardwood floor. He'd clearly checked out the house while she'd been unconscious still on the floor of the van, because he didn't hesitate at all, but led her straight to a closed green door. He pulled the door inward toward them with a little difficulty, but still managed to keep his hold on both his supply bag and Olivia. They moved into a small kitchenette and Olivia's eyes widened for a moment as they alighted on a wall phone by the far doorway. _A way to contact someone._ It was more hope of a possible out than she'd had in days, but that thought swiftly flew from her mind as Lewis took her through into a small bedroom. Olivia knew immediately that this room would be the site of her ultimate torture and probable death. The colors that had been growing ever stronger as they made their way from the outside in were glowing like a live coal here. Even with the curtains pulled back to let the natural light in, the colors of the outside could not penetrate far into the room that would surely be transformed into hell itself with the drapes drawn. Olivia could swear she felt heat and flame licking at her body and she questioned how fair it was that she would be condemned to the same place her captor surely sprang from if she died while with him.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Lewis's arms were about to give out from the awkwardness and strain of his burden and he gladly flung Olivia down once they reached the edge of the bed in the middle of the room. The mattress and pillows were bare but clean _(a state which wouldn't last long in his presence)_, and while the rusty iron bed frame had clearly seen better days, it appeared sturdy enough to withstand all the activities he had planned for their little staycation. Plenty of places to attach handcuffs and rope or to hold onto for support. Olivia pitched forward onto the springy cushion and immediately whipped her head around trying to clear her mind and get a better picture of her surroundings. Lewis began to speak to her, fiddling with something in his hands, but the words meant nothing to Olivia as all her attention zeroed in on what was visible through a partially open curtain in the corner – _a bathroom._ As if a switch had been flipped in her brain, every single nerve in Olivia's body was suddenly on fire with need. She was quite sure she had lost control of her bladder during some moment of unconsciousness over the past few days, but it had been far too long since she'd properly relieved herself and she was desperate for the opportunity. Lewis had been plying her with alcohol the whole time they'd been together and she was paying for it. Hating herself for the weakness she was about to display but hating the thought of laying in her own urine even more, she waited for him to turn his gaze back toward her again. Lewis smiled an almost charming boyish smile and tilted his head to look her in the face. As soon as his eyes were on hers, Olivia moaned through the duct tape on her mouth and gestured toward the toilet with her head as best as she was able. It only took Lewis a moment to put 2 and 2 together and he taunted Olivia as she rolled over onto her back in an effort to keep her gathering tears from falling.

Lewis moved to the side of the bed where Olivia's legs were hanging off, and she could see now that he had a roll of duct tape in one hand and a gun – _her gun_ – in the other. He stood there for a moment, gazing dispassionately down upon her as if to silently ask her, _"How is this going to work?"_

Then Lewis jerked his chin and said, "Let's go."

Olivia could feel her handcuffed wrists being crushed under the weight of her drunk and drugged body. As she bent her legs down over the edge of the bed in an effort to move across the mattress, the pain shooting up her arms intensified to such an excruciating level that she was terrified for a moment she would pass out once more. She tried to stare up at the ceiling and concentrate on what she was doing, but that was next to impossible with Lewis looming over her. She could feel his gaze on her battered body as she continued in her pathetic struggle, squealing and straining, using every last ounce of strength she had to somehow manage to get to her feet. Olivia lifted her head and, completely against her will, her own eyes found his as he offered to help her. He was unguarded in that moment, and Olivia stared in horror at the look of pure joy and unbridled lust causing his face to practically glow as he witnessed her feeble attempt to maintain even the smallest modicum of control in this situation. The Beast knew his prey was almost broken; he could practically taste victory. As Olivia's head fell back onto the mattress, Lewis grew impatient waiting on her. In one fluid motion, he hurled the roll of duct tape against the wall and then slid that same arm underneath Olivia's torso to pull her body up to meet his. Their bodies were flush against one another, from Olivia's feet all the way up to her breasts and she kept her eyes trained on Lewis's mouth rather than looking him in the eye. The evidence of his excitement was pressed hard against her hip and she couldn't stand the thought of him peering into her soul and seeing only fear there. Lewis rocked against her for a few moments, chest heaving. He had Olivia's service weapon pushed up under her jaw, and briefly considered crushing her duct-tape covered lips under his as he had once before, but then turned her away from him and toward the bathroom.

Olivia looked wildly around the room for a moment as though trying to find a place to run and hide, even though nothing of the sort was to be found. Then she turned and looked over her shoulder at Lewis, pulling at the cuffs behind her back and grunting in an effort to ask for them to be removed. Lewis was genuinely amused at the fact that after all their time together already, she would still hold onto the thought that he would do any such thing.

He briefly touched his tongue to the corner of his mouth before asking, "Did you _really_ think this would work that way? You need help, and I'm going to be the one to help you."

This time, Olivia couldn't stop the tears from spilling over, and as Lewis prodded her with the gun to herd her toward the bathroom, she cursed herself and wished she'd simply peed the bed. Maybe then he would have been so disgusted he just would have killed her straight out and saved her this heartache. But then again, knowing Lewis _(and she really did think she was finally beginning to understand him)_, he may have simply joined her in the act. Lewis again tucked the gun into the back of the waistband of his jeans and reached around Olivia to push the dividing curtain all the way open. Olivia stepped into the bathroom as Lewis flipped on the light. She turned around to face him, using every last reserve within her to put on a brave face. However, it was a short-lived act as Lewis grinned and, peeling the duct tape off her face, whispered, "You ready, sweetheart?"


	3. Christmas Presents

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Soooo... I know it's taken me far longer than it should have to post an update (especially one which ended up being half the length of the previous chapter), but that's just how things go sometimes, right? Right?! Lol. I apologize for the wait, and I'll do my best to be more timely in the future. Bear with me! I love you all._

_P.S. I realized that I didn't do any sort of disclaimer, so let's just be clear on the fact that nothing in this entire story you recognize from anything Dick Wolf or NBC belongs to me. ;)_

_**deep breath** Here goes..._

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><p><em><strong>Previous<strong>_

_Olivia stepped into the bathroom as Lewis flipped on the light. She turned around to face him, using every last reserve within her to put on a brave face. However, it was a short-lived act as Lewis grinned and, peeling the duct tape off her face, whispered, "You ready, sweetheart?"_

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Olivia stared at Lewis's gloating face with confusion. The back of her pants-clad legs were pressed up against the cool ceramic of the toilet, and she had no room to maneuver away from him. Her shoulders ached almost unbearably as the ever-present weight of the handcuffs imprisoning her sore and swollen wrists pulled them down. Her dark hair, typically as full of life and beauty as Olivia herself, hung limp, sweaty, and bedraggled in clumps around her face. She could feel her jaw gaping slightly after being released from its bond, and though it had been some time since she'd had any alcohol, she was still too loose-limbed and fuzzy-brained to have the presence of mind to close it.

"Look at you!" Lewis chortled. "Not feeling so superior now, are we?"

Olivia shook her head, not in response to his question - despite how he might choose to take the action – but in an attempt to rattle the pieces of her brain back into working order. She briefly closed her eyes and willed herself to be the woman she knew she still had to be somewhere deep inside – strong, fearless, a badass. She gathered her independence around her like a cloak and drew upon the image of a wonder woman to clear the last of the cobwebs from her head. Olivia took a deep breath in, straightened her spinal column, squared her shoulders, and tilted her chin up. She opened her eyes to glare full in Lewis's face, and then felt the breath she had taken stall in her chest. Instead of a superhero, she was now the tin man stuttering to a halt upon the realization that his joints desperately needed oil. And her oil – bravery, courage, hope – had run out. The air in her lungs gusted forth as she forlornly breathed the word, _"No."_ She slumped back down like a marionette whose strings had just been cut. Olivia chanced a glance back up at Lewis in time to see his jaw harden. His eyes glinted like cold steel and he cocked his eyebrow in a silent, _"Excuse me?"_

But for a few moments, Olivia found she simply couldn't speak as she fully understood what it was Lewis had meant when he said she needed help. It wasn't enough for him that he was planning to put his hands on her, oh no. He expected her to _ask_ him to do it. To _invite_ him to peel back the layers and expose her secrets waiting to be found underneath. The dawning horror on her face mirrored the smug grin on his as he watched her emotions flicker in rapid succession, and he knew that _she_ knew what he wanted.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Suddenly, all the puzzle pieces seemed to fall into place for Olivia:  
>–why he redressed most of his victims<br>–why he hid some of them away  
>–why he hadn't undressed her... yet<p>

All these women he had taken, his victims, were his twisted fantasy version of presents. Lewis was akin to a child on Christmas morning, greedily opening packages to see what was inside. It held little concern for him that they were left broken and ruined when he'd finished playing with them _(in fact, he found he much preferred them that way)_, they still belonged to him and that was all that mattered.

Some, like Alice Parker, were found to be lacking, similar to new underwear or socks. Useful and serviceable enough, but certainly not anything worth wasting much time on putting away carefully to protect from prying eyes. Enjoyable for a while, but of no consequence if destroyed in the process. Left discarded when time was up. Alice's rape and torture, as brutal as they were, were more about revenge to him than anything else. He wanted her humiliated, and he got his wish.

Others held a much higher level of significance to him. They were gifts that were desired, approved of, a pleasant treat; something about these women made them important enough that he wanted to wrap them back up, preserve them. Particularly Mrs. Mayer, as Olivia was there to witness and observe his animalistic assault on her. She needed to be covered, concealed, kept from immediate viewing by just anyone who happened by. Mrs. Mayer was carefully handled – tenderly redressed and hung in a place of honor in the closet – a gift put away as a surprise for the next one who might find her. Repackaged in his mind and stored lovingly until such a time as he might choose to take that memory out and relive it.

Olivia began running through every known victim of Lewis in her mind and watching as they fell into different categories based on his connection to them. Her breath came more quickly, her vision went out of focus, and she teetered on the verge of hyperventilating as her brain acted like a hamster on a wheel spinning around and around trying to process all this information that suddenly was vividly clear. Then, a weight slammed into her chest and the hamster was thrown from its wheel. _She_ was his final Christmas present. The one long-awaited gift that was more precious, more sacred, more wanted than anything else. He would gladly die for the privilege of owning her. Lewis had spent the better part of four days with Olivia not daring to undress, unwrap, open her because that would mean he would finally know what was inside the box. All the mystery would be revealed, and the anticipation would be over. But now, despite pressing concerns from the outside world – namely, getting rid of the van – Lewis had decided he'd waited long enough.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Suddenly, Olivia was jerked out of her thoughts and back into the bathroom as she felt Lewis's hand caressing her jawline. He slid a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. Olivia's eyes darted around the bathroom, desperately trying to find any place to land other than Lewis's own eyes. But the gentle hand on her face turned harsh as Lewis began to squeeze her lower jaw harder and harder until it hurt so badly Olivia was sure he would crack it if he put any more pressure on it. She gave into the demanding force, and abandoning the search for a way out, locked her eyes with his. It was mesmerizing, the pull they felt toward one another. There was no denying the chemistry between them, as sick and evil a presence in the room as Lewis himself. They couldn't look away from one another, and Olivia's heart broke a little more at the realization that this man – this MONSTER – knew and understood more about her than any romantic interest she'd ever had. Possibly even understood more about her then El... _No!_ She refused to go there. Predator and prey stared into one another's eyes: cruelty, arrogance, and lust reflecting in his; fear, despair, and anguish in hers.

Then without warning, the atmosphere in the room shifted as the familiar _(reviled)_ grin slid back into place on Lewis's face and he tilted his head saying,

"I believe you had a question for me?"


	4. Memories & Mockeries

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, look at that! I'm back already. Thanks to all of you for your faves, follows, and reviews. And special thanks to Amanda & Radio (you know who you are) for believing in me and encouraging me to keep writing. I don't own anything except my own twisted plot lines. Enjoy..._

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><p><em><strong>Previous<strong>_

_Predator and prey stared into one another's eyes: cruelty, arrogance, and lust reflecting in his; fear, despair, and anguish in hers. Then without warning, the atmosphere in the room shifted as the familiar (reviled) grin slid back into place on Lewis's face and he tilted his head saying,_

_"I believe you had a question for me?"_

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

It hadn't even been 24 hours since the last time Olivia had spoken, but it felt like at least an eternity had passed. And to be quite honest, between the horror at the prospect of what she was facing and the mixture of drugs and alcohol that had been repeatedly forced down her throat, she wasn't even sure she knew how to speak anymore. But Lewis was staring intently at her, fingers still digging into her cheeks, sadistic expectation written all over his face, and Olivia knew she had to try. She took in a shaky breath and cleared her throat. Or at least she attempted to. In reality, she accomplished something far closer to making the noise of a car engine trying desperately to turn over. Fittingly enough, she realized that stalling was exactly what she'd been doing, and if she wanted to get out of this situation anytime soon (and without pissing herself), she needed to just act.

"C-can you please h-help me?" Olivia managed to croak. The sound of her own voice terrified her. She didn't sound like Olivia Benson. She sounded warped and aged, creaking like an old rusty gate. A fleeting notion passed through her head, as quick as a silvery fish in a stream: _You sound like your mother_. Olivia immediately mentally shied away from any thought of Serena - too many good memories she didn't want poisoned and other bad ones she didn't want to consider at the moment. But the idea lodged itself in her brain and she couldn't shake it. Olivia supposed it must have been the years of alcohol abuse - in the end it had changed her mother's voice almost as much as a smoker's is affected by their cigarette use. And now it seemed as though Lewis was attempting the same thing with her. Olivia briefly pondered how it was that Lewis had managed to escape the ill effects of all his own drug and alcohol use throughout the years, but just as quickly wrote it off to good genes, the fact that he mainly seemed to use his vices to stay in control during his rampages, and that in general, he was simply despicably lucky.

The focus of Olivia's errant thoughts smirked and turned his head so his ear was practically brushing her lips. He moved his hand to cup the back of her head as he said, "I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't quite understand. Help? Did you need help with something?"

Olivia's face flushed red. It was bad enough she had to ask at all, but now she had to repeat herself, with details? She briefly thought of biting Lewis's ear just for pure spite, but she knew the consequences of making him angry, and she might not survive another round of that right now. She choked back a sob and forced out the words she once thought she'd rather die before saying, "L-Lewis, please. W-will you please help m-me take off my p-p-pants?"

Olivia stared up at the ceiling, chest heaving and hot tears burning paths down her cheeks, resolutely determined not to look at Lewis if she didn't absolutely have to. Lewis caressed Olivia's jaw and then dragged his thumb across her lips in what would have been a sensual gesture in any other situation. She could hear the grin in Lewis's voice as he angled his head so their cheeks were touching and he breathed into her ear, "I thought you'd never ask..."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

When Olivia was a little girl, her mom discouraged her from using the public toilet at school, so by the end-of-the-day bus ride home, her bladder was always full to bursting. The bus tended to be rather bouncy, and there was one stretch of road leading to a classmate's house where the pavement swooped up and down in gentle swells. Olivia had never told anybody this, but the combination of the movement of the bus and the pressure of a full bladder had sent a delicious tingle up her spine. She didn't understand what those feelings meant at that young age, but she knew that she liked it and that it was maybe a little naughty. Olivia would've given anything to be back on the bus right now rather than standing in the beach house bathroom, half numb from fear, waiting for Lewis to begin undressing her. The pressure of her full bladder now meant nothing more than a sickening sensation in her gut as she fought back the need to let go and the desire to vomit from her shattered nerves.

Olivia didn't want to say anything else, but she couldn't stop the, "Please hurry!" that escaped her lips as the feelings of urgency grew ever stronger and her legs shook in a awful parody of a child's 'potty dance.'

Lewis threw his head back and laughed, a sound full of merriment which echoed through the bathroom in stark contrast to the heart-wrenching scene being played out in front of him. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye before saying, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm happy to help my girls out any way they ask." Then his mirth evaporated as quickly as it had appeared, and Olivia knew her time for praying for a miracle was up. She could feel Lewis's eyes boring holes into her face and she understood exactly what he wanted. She had to watch. And he knew she would. The chains forged in the fires of hell that bound Olivia to Lewis grew a link stronger as she reluctantly lowered her eyes from the ceiling till they met his.

Lewis's nostrils flared as he placed his hands on Olivia's waist and crouched down in front of her, never breaking eye contact. He undid the fastenings on her pants, and spread the material open, pushing them down over the swell of her hips and past her knees. Then Lewis hooked his fingers under the band of her underwear and pulled them down as well, all the while staring full in Olivia's face, his eyes growing dark with lust and power as his movements progressed. Lewis's breathing grew deeper and more ragged as Olivia's sped-up, heart beating so quickly it threatened to take flight from her chest.

Olivia practically jumped out of her skin at the sudden contact of Lewis's fingertips with the soft skin on the inside of her thigh. The surprise was enough to break whatever hold he had on her, and Olivia gratefully shut her eyes so she didn't have to gaze upon the face of evil as Lewis assaulted her. His hands moved up and around, pausing to squeeze her backside before coming back to the front. Lewis slid his hands up under her shirt and across the planes of her stomach and rib cage, then down again. He grasped Olivia's hips firmly and pushed the bottom of her shirt up, leaning forward to plant a kiss just below her navel, inhaling sharply as he did so.

"I can smell your cunt, Olivia. Despite the other scents of the last four days, I can still smell _you_."

Olivia was mortified at the words coming out of Lewis's mouth, and trembled so violently from fear and the cold air that she could barely feel the vibration of his lips against her stomach. Her skin broke out in goosebumps, and if she'd had a free hand, she would've slapped it over her mouth to try and hold in the burst of deranged laughter which threatened to escape her as she thought, _I should just piss on him. Then at least I wouldn't be cold anymore_. But the moment went as quickly as it came, and Olivia realized there was no way she would be able to last much longer. She felt Lewis's body shift as he stood up but Olivia refused to open her eyes to look at him and was therefore taken completely off-guard when he placed his hands on her shoulders and shoved her down on the toilet seat as hard as he could.

The sudden movement and jolt to her body divested Olivia of whatever minute portion of control she had managed to maintain up to this point, and as Lewis forced her down on the toilet, her bladder practically exploded. Olivia's whole body burned with a humiliation like none she'd ever felt before as her body finally took relief by emptying itself. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs and curled forward as she bowed her head and tried pointlessly to shield herself from Lewis's prying eyes. His shoulders began to shake, too, and the bathroom filled with the mingled sounds of Olivia urinating and Lewis laughing.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Olivia's flow finally trickled to a stop, and Lewis crouched in front of her once more. He grabbed her chin and yanked it up to search Olivia's face.

"You done?" he asked with the smirk Nick had once threatened to smack off his face firmly in place.

Olivia tried unsuccessfully to jerk her chin back out of his grasp, determined not to show any more weakness or let another tear run down her face. The grin slid off Lewis's face as he saw Olivia's defiance returning and he repeated in a cold voice, "I asked you if you were done."

Olivia gritted her teeth and begrudgingly answered, "Yesss. I'm finished."

"Alrighty, then. Let's get you cleaned up," Lewis said as he placed his hands on her knees and pushed himself to a standing position. He spun on one heel, scanning the shelves, shower area, and wide bathroom counter before coming to a stop back in front of Olivia. "Huh," Lewis snorted, "No toilet paper."

"What?" Olivia choked out, frantically twisting her body to look beside both sides of the toilet, before her eyes snapped back up to meet Lewis's.

"That's alright, baby. We'll just improvise!" Lewis reached out to snag a washcloth that was hanging on the wall by the medicine cabinet. He turned the water on in the sink and wetted the washcloth before moving to stand back in front of Olivia. "Scooch back," he commanded, "and open your legs."

Olivia looked pointedly away from Lewis, out through the curtain in the doorway to the bedroom. But her eyes lighted on the iron frame bed and suddenly what was out there wasn't any better than what was in here. And at least if she did what Lewis said, and didn't piss him off, she had a pretty good idea of how to handle him. Hating herself for it, Olivia sighed, stared somewhere in the vicinity of Lewis's chest, and did as she'd been told. She scooted herself back on the toilet seat as best as she was able, with her hands still cuffed behind her, and then, swallowing visibly, parted her legs to give Lewis access. A shaft of sunlight suddenly pierced through the bathroom window blinds, and made something sparkle in Olivia's eyes. She was startled to realize that it was tears on her eyelashes. Olivia's breath caught, and she died a little bit inside because she finally understood that she had absolutely no control whatsoever, and more than that, she'd started doing what she could to keep Lewis happy.

"That's my good girl," Lewis cooed as he reached between Olivia's legs with the washcloth and began wiping off her most intimate parts. His touch was surprisingly tender and he moved the cloth in circular motions around her inner thighs, her backside, and her core. Lewis bunched the cloth up in his hand and used two long fingers to stroke softly between her legs, testing. He wasn't disappointed as Olivia reacted like a live wire had just touched her rather than flesh. Gasping, she threw her head back and arched up off the toilet trying to get away from his touch.

Lewis kept one hand in between Olivia's legs and put the other one on her shoulder. "Shhh. Shh. It's okay, shhhh..." Lewis gentled her as one would a recalcitrant horse. Olivia's heart rate slowed and she settled back on the toilet seat, allowing Lewis to finish what he'd started. Lewis tossed the washcloth into the sink and, placing his hands around Olivia's waist, pulled her to a standing position. He reached behind her to flush the toilet and then stepped back.

Olivia wouldn't lie, it felt so much better to have an empty bladder and a clean nether region, but a cold fire burned and ached in her chest that Lewis was the one to thank. Mostly though, she was glad this was finally almost over. Part of her hated the thought of having to have her same repulsive clothes pulled back up, but she would be so relieved to have her only safety barrier against Lewis's attacks - however flimsy - back in place. In the back of her brain, she knew it was an illusion, but it was a necessary one when she felt like she was losing _(or had already lost)_ every other part of herself. Olivia knew what he would be expecting and rather than attempting to avoid the inevitable, she just quietly asked, "Lewis, would you please pull my clothes back up?"

Lewis stood there, not moving, as Olivia waited, becoming more agitated by the second. She chanced a sideways look up at Lewis's face, and her heart leapt into her throat. Lewis's eyes were like black holes, absorbing and destroying everything within their gravitational pull, and Olivia had no escape from them. A muscle twitched in his cheek, and faster than a snake he reached out and grabbed her by the arms. "Oh Olivia," he whispered darkly, "did you really think we were done here? I may have things I need to take care of, but we've got time for this. Pull your clothes up? Not yet."

Olivia was paralyzed and stunned at her stupidity. _How could I have so badly misjudged this situation?_ But she had no time for further lament as Lewis spun her around and shoved her against the edge of the bathroom counter. He invaded her space and every pore of her being as he pressed himself against her. Lewis placed one large hand against the small of her back and pushed her down, bending Olivia over the scratched and weathered acrylic surface. On the way down, her eyes caught sight of a full-length mirror on the far wall. A common feature in so many bathrooms, but this one seemed to hold a nightmare inside. The picture reflected showed a demon holding a frightened animal captive and that couldn't possibly be right. Who was that broken and battered creature? Olivia thought she looked familiar, but couldn't place where she knew her from. She stared in shock and disbelief as a million thoughts raced through her head.

_What is happening?_

_How did I get here?_

_Oh my god. THAT'S ME._


	5. Poisoned Pet

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Merry Christmas, svuxfanfic. If you all hate me after this chapter, blame it on her for the swift update. It's the only present she asked for. Muahahaha! **sobbing emoji** Hopefully it goes without saying that I don't own anything you recognize from outside the story. Enjoy..._

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><p><strong><em>Previous<em>**

_The picture reflected showed a demon holding a frightened animal captive and that couldn't possibly be right. Who was that broken and battered creature? Olivia thought she looked familiar, but couldn't place where she knew her from. She stared in shock and disbelief as a million thoughts raced through her head._

_What is happening?_

_How did I get here?_

_Oh my god. THAT'S ME._

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Lewis followed Olivia's horrified gaze over to the mirror. They watched together as he spread his hands wide and traced her back through her shirt, then slipped his hands under the material to continue his evil caress. Without warning, he moved to grab her biceps and jerked her to an upright position. Olivia's hands and arms were crushed between their bodies as Lewis pulled her tight against him. She could feel his belt buckle under her palm and curled her fingers inward to avoid touching him as much as she possibly could. One of Lewis's large hands wrapped itself around Olivia's neck and his thumb pressed hard against her lower jaw to twist her head and force her to continue staring in the direction of the mirror. Lewis's other hand slid below and inside the front hem of her shirt. He splayed his fingers against Olivia's stomach, then trailed them upward till he was cupping her breast. Lewis cruelly squeezed first one and then the other, twisting the tender flesh and causing tears to prick in Olivia's eyes. Then, despite being unable to see what he was doing, Lewis's fingertips unerringly found one of the multiple burns with which he'd littered Olivia's chest. He pressed hard into the partially healed and mildly infected wound, eliciting the exact response he'd hoped for from Olivia. She gasped in pain and arched back against Lewis's chest, trying in vain to escape the agony, and allowing him to draw her even closer.

"Look at us, Olivia. _LOOK._" Lewis practically vibrated with ill-concealed excitement.

"This is mine," he stated, digging his fingernail into her burn.  
>"These," groping under her bra, "are mine."<br>"YOU are mine!" Lewis growled into her ear.

That bold claim finally woke Olivia from her terrified stupor and she began to struggle in earnest against him, trying to get away, pull away, run away, fly away. She wanted desperately to be anywhere but here, held close in a sick parody of a lover's embrace by the one man she would sacrifice her life to have never met. _Except I'll probably be sacrificing my life because I _did_ meet him._

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Lewis chuckled as Olivia moved against him and ground his hips into her hands, pushing her flush with the counter. "So it's like that, is it?" he asked, laughter on his breath. "Okay, let's get you a little more comfortable then, shall we?" Olivia's head jerked to the side and her jaw clamped shut as her brain fled from the memory of an almost identical conversation. Lewis pulled his hands back away from Olivia's body and he removed the handcuff key from his front pocket. He gripped one of her mangled wrists hard enough to make her want to sink to her knees. Lewis unlocked the cuff and removed it, pulling away a layer of skin and blood as he peeled it off. _Elbow him in the neck, Olivia._ Lewis turned Olivia so she was facing him, keeping a firm grip on her arm and reaching around her to grab the wrist with the cuffs still dangling from it. _Punch him in the face Olivia, really give him a good gash._ Olivia moaned in relief and agony as her shoulders were released from the position in which they'd been for a day. _Run, Olivia, run far away._ Lewis closed the handcuff once again around her bare wrist, and yanked on the cuffs to make sure they were locked in position, bringing a grimace to Olivia's face and a smile to his own. _Good job Olivia, you played statue _really_ well._ Lewis backed Olivia up against the bathroom counter so she was more or less sitting on the edge, pants and underwear still down around her ankles. He straddled her bare legs and clasped his hands behind her back.

"Tell me something, Olivia. This boyfriend of yours, you do have sex with him, right? I mean, you told me he was living with you. But you're clearly not pregnant, and you haven't been, so what are you doing to prevent that? Birth control? Condoms? You just too old?" Olivia stared up at Lewis in disbelief, searching his face for any indication that this was a joke.

"Are... are you serious? That's no-none of your business," Olivia stammered.

Lewis's features tightened across the bones of his face and he breathed out hard through his nose. "Answer me, Olivia! I was saving it for later, but I bought this blowtorch at the hardware store that I would just love to try out..."

"Condoms," she ground out, "we use condoms."

"Wow. _Really?_ And he puts up with that? Damn. Guess we know who wears the pants in _that_ relationship. My daddy always said condoms were for pussies. Although, come to think of it, I suppose that _is_ what they're for, after all." Lewis chortled at his little joke, and pulled a mocking face at the disgust spreading across Olivia's, gazing down into her weary eyes.

"Not your style of humor, Olivia? GOD! You remind me of my mother sometimes. Acting all high and mighty, but then opening your legs for any worthless piece of shit that looks your way and pretends to care. That ginger whore spread like peanut butter for half the men in town. But you know, my daddy told me once that it took a little... special convincing to get her to let him in the night I was conceived. I mean, not that he _had_ to rape her - once he got going, she was into it just like always. Man, I loved hearing that story! At any rate, the irony of the situation is amusing, don't you think? Product of rape grows up and becomes a rapist. Remind me to tell you how that happened some time, okay? I think you'll _love_ it."

Olivia knew she should look away from Lewis, break his eye contact, but she was mesmerized by the terrible tale he was weaving, and not a little concerned by the dangerous ground he was treading with the topic.

"You have to wonder, sweetheart, how often does that_ really_ happen? Babies conceived by rape? I mean, there's that politician claiming that if the rape was legitimate, the body will shut down the woman's ability to become pregnant. What do you think of that? In your line of work, this topic has to come up from time to time. But honestly, Olivia, do you truly know _anyone_ - besides me, of course" Lewis clarified with a twisted smile, "that's a product of rape?"

Being that it was almost evening on the fourth day of their dance from hell, Olivia knew better than to let anything important show on her face, but it was too late. As the blood drained from her cheeks, and Lewis's eyes lit up with glee, Olivia had no doubt that he'd seen the expression of horror that allowed him to steal part of one of the only secrets she'd been able to withhold from him. Lewis's voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper, and he grinned wide enough to swallow Olivia's soul, "You? _Your_ mother? Oh, darling, we really are joined at the hip, aren't we?" Olivia could feel the delight radiating off Lewis as he stood up fully and stepped back, reaching out to take her by the shoulders and asking, "Shall we see if we can repeat history?"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Olivia's comprehension was failing her. _This can't be happening._ "No. No! _NO!_" She fought against Lewis as he turned her once more toward the bathroom counter, but his grip was unbreakable as he raised her arms above her head and used his weight to leverage her facedown into the position she'd hoped to never be again.

"Yell as loud as you want, sweetheart, there's no one around to hear! And I love it..." Lewis stretched out across Olivia's body, relishing in the feel of her underneath him. He pulled himself up and took the gun out of his waistband before laying it down on the countertop. Lewis stepped back to undo his belt, and the second Olivia felt him move, she reared up in an attempt to get away. Lewis immediately shoved Olivia back down, hard, grabbed the gun, and pressed it against her cheekbone on the side of her face that was exposed. "If you want to keep that face of yours looking pretty, do NOT try that shit again. Do you understand me? DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, OLIVIA?"

"Yes, yes! I understand," Olivia sobbed, "Please, no! Lewis! God, please, stop!"

"We're a little late for that, sweetheart, and I'm a _little_ pressed for time." Lewis laid the gun back down on the counter again. He undid his belt, button, and zipper and opened the front of his jeans. Lewis placed one hand between Olivia's shoulder blades and used his other to push down his boxers and pull himself out. He moved to invade Olivia's space and she choked on her tears, begging Lewis to reconsider what he was about to do. Olivia could feel him slick and hard against her, probing and demanding. And finally, it was too late to take it all back. Olivia's mind went blank with shock, time seeming to expand and come to a stop as Lewis pushed into her, agonizingly slow. Then Lewis groaned in satisfaction at the sensation of being fully inside Olivia. The world imploded around her as time now leapt by much too quickly. She screamed. Lewis began thrusting unbearably fast, not giving Olivia's body any chance to adjust, as he slammed her pelvis into the counter edge over and over with bruising force.

Lewis's movements stilled, and the only sounds filling the room were his hoarse breathing, and Olivia's quiet whimpers, punctuated by hiccoughs. The two of them stayed, fused together like that for a moment, and then Lewis spoke. "You know I've got to get going soon, but I want you to know we will come back to this - I have to have you fully this way. God, you are fucking incredible! I _knew_ you'd be worth the wait. But I do need to move the van, and I'm not quite finished, yet."

Lewis slipped out of Olivia, picked up the gun and took a few steps back. "Get up, Olivia. I know you can. Get up, turn around, and get down on your knees. Do it now."

Olivia felt as though she was made of clay and had molten lava poured inside her outer shell. Head bowed in shame and heart filled with dread at what was still to come, she used shaking arms and quivering legs to push herself till she was upright. She shuffled her feet till she was facing Lewis, wincing at the movement. Her downcast eyes filled with tears and blurred her vision, which she was thankful for as she slowly sank to her knees. Olivia continued her descent until her backside was resting on her heels, and her back was touching the cabinet door. Then the tears spilled over and she could suddenly see that which she'd been avoiding.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

It wasn't as though she had never seen Lewis's naked body before. At the Mayer residence, she'd had a front row seat, forced to watch his bloody weapon of torture, intent on inflicting as much damage as possible. But now that it was in her face, the experience was almost more than she could bear. Her mind was reeling as she kneeled there before Lewis, the literal extension of his throbbing lust, anger, and thirst for domination put on display for her. Olivia saw the movement of the gun out of the corner of her eye, and she flinched away before realizing Lewis only wanted her attention. She tilted her chin up and raised her eyes to meet his.

"Olivia, one thing - you bite me, you're dead."

That was all it took to knock Olivia over the edge into the gaping maw that had been calling her name for days. She threw herself backward as hard as she could, smacking her head on the underside of the counter edge, sending stars exploding across her vision. As the world fractured around her, Olivia felt like she'd fallen into a movie she'd once watched while staying up late, waiting for Brian to come home. The main character was stung by a creature that caused terrible reactions - hallucinations, nightmares, death; fantasy and reality intermixing in jagged flashes, accompanied by discordant tones meant to emphasize the abject terror being inflicted upon the victim. And now she was trapped in a nightmare of her own mind, hallucinations blooming before her eyes. The man before her fluctuated between William Lewis and Lowell Harris. First she was in a basement against a cold metal door, and the next second she was back in the beach house bathroom. Light and dark, red and black, criminal and correctional officer - everything flickered before her. Two sick creatures intent on taking a piece of her soul. And overarching the entire episode, she could hear the voice of a demon from hell, the Beast from hell, speaking to her.

_That's some reaction, Olivia. I admit I'm a little bummed to find out I'm not the first one in your life. Did he take you? No answer? Doesn't matter. I'll find out. I always do. Olivia. Olivia! OLIVIA!_

Suddenly, all noise and motion evaporated, sucked out of the room like a vacuum, when Olivia felt the cold sharp metal of her gun being pressed against her forehead. And the Beast began to issue commands.

"Open your mouth, Olivia." She did.

The gun disappeared and instead long fingers tangled in her hair as Lewis maneuvered Olivia's head into position. As he passed through her lips and brushed against her tongue, she could taste herself on him, and in that moment, she wished she were dead. Rotting in the ground for years, having taken a bullet, a knife wound, a broken neck in the line of duty. Anything but this ordeal that would only leave others seeing her as 'less than' and questioning her ability to take care of herself.

"Take me all the way in." She did.

Lewis alternated between thrusting, and pulling Olivia's head toward him. Then he was in too far, too deep, and she was gagging. _Don't throw up Olivia. You can't throw up. You don't know if he'll laugh at you or get angry, and you can't afford for him to get angry._ Lewis's movements became more erratic, more shallow, more quick, and he held Olivia's head still.

Then the Beast repeated the command she'd heard once before when smooth, cold glass was in her throat instead of hot flesh. And she did.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Olivia's mouth was bitter and burning, just as it had been the night before. Her heart was bitter and burning, too, as Lewis spoke in a gloating voice, his fingers still wrapped in her hair, "Good girl. You did very well."

Olivia's body started to shake and she began to sob once again. She was so cold and tired and completely bone-numbingly exhausted. She had lost, and he had won. At least this round. And she didn't know if she could get up again and keep fighting; whatever victory she had once thought she would gain didn't seem worth it anymore. Olivia just wanted to sleep. She felt her eyelids drooping and allowed them to close as her sobs quieted. Her body swayed and then slumped forward as she leaned against the only thing available for support - Lewis's leg. Olivia's breathing evened out as she drifted off to the bliss of a dreamless world, even if just for a few minutes.

Olivia startled awake in disbelief at what she'd just done. Lewis was gently stroking her hair in the same manner one might stroked a beloved pet, and his voice filtered down to her from above, "You know, I love having you like this, darling, but I really do need to get going now." He adjusted himself as he pulled his clothing back together and refastened his belt. Then he crouched down in front of Olivia, slid his hands under her arms, and lifted her to her feet. Olivia stood limp and lifeless before Lewis, a marionette waiting for her strings to be pulled as he hastily redressed her as well. Lewis produced the gun, seemingly from thin air, and said, "Let's get you back in the bedroom."

Olivia walked stiffly and mechanically, more like a robot now, than a doll, as Lewis told her to lay on the bed and raise her arms over her head. Being that each direction was accompanied by a wave of the gun, she saw no reason not to comply. Lewis walked around behind the bed and pulled her body toward him till he could handcuff her arms to the iron headboard frame - an excruciating process for Olivia. Then he picked up the duct tape from where it lay on the floor and came back over by the bedside. Lewis leaned down and slid a hand behind Olivia's head, lifting her face to his lowering one for a swift, possessive kiss.

"Thanks for the quickie," Lewis grinned as he tore of a piece of the silver tape and placed it over Olivia's swollen lips. "I'll be right back, so don't go anywhere. We've so much more fun to be had." Lewis chuckled, and tears slipped from the corners of Olivia's eyes to mingle with the sweat on her face.

The whole bathroom ordeal hadn't taken much more than about twenty minutes, but Olivia felt she was destroyed forever as she turned her head away from Lewis to avoid his penetrating gaze. _Pull yourself together Benson._ Olivia heard a small voice she thought had been quieted forever, echoing from somewhere far back in the recesses of her brain. _You've got to find a way out of this!_ A tiny seed of hope was planted in her heart, and Olivia pondered the idea that perhaps all wasn't lost. _Soon,_ she told the voice. _In a little bit. I just have to rest first, and then we'll figure something out._

Olivia heard Lewis's boots walking away through the otherwise empty beach house. The front door slammed and then the van started up as black closed in around the edges of Olivia's vision.

_Soon._


End file.
